


High School Lows

by Greatninjamorgan



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Fluff, High School AU, M/M, kinda maybe terrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3291107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greatninjamorgan/pseuds/Greatninjamorgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The laziest kid in class is moved to sit next to the angriest kid in class. Chaptered XigDem fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Monday 20th October

 

Dear parent/guardian,

 

Attached you will find your child's most recent progress report.

It is important that, as carer(s), you engage with your child's education, particularly at this crucial stage in their lives. We would like to remind you that there is a Parents' Evening taking place on Tuesday, 25th November and that your child's overall attendance should not fall below 95%, except in extenuating circumstances.

 

Yours faithfully,

Shaun Pagnall

Principal

 

 

Report – DEMYX – October 2014

 

20TH CENTURY HISTORY – Unfortunately, I cannot give much comment on Demyx's work, as I have only seen one (incomplete) essay from him all term. In class, he is often talkative (though not disrespectful) and can make astute observations about source texts when prompted. His lack of willingness to engage suggests to me that, unless there is a drastic change in his attitude, we are looking at a D-grade student. Additionally, his attendance is increasingly poor, standing currently at 62%.

 

COMBINED SCIENCES – Demyx works hard to avoid doing work. The few homework pieces received for this subject have been incomplete and rushed. An attendance of 74% is unacceptable and will not yield anything higher than a D.

 

DESIGN & TECHNOLOGY – We are looking at the very same problem we faced last year – Demyx simply doesn't turn up enough to do any work. When he does show up to class, he is often late, and does not focus enough to complete any significant amount of work. The nature of this subject means it is vital that Demyx arrives to class on time, as he cannot catch up on work anywhere but in the workshop. I would be happy to see him working at a C-grade standard. His attendance is a mediocre 62%, and this must be improved upon.

 

ENGLISH LITERATURE – Demyx struggles to concentrate in class and is occasionally a distraction to others, though he seems to thrive when performing tasks in groups. His work (when I see it!) is satisfactory at present, but to avoid a repeat of last year it is vital that Demyx improves his attendance, which currently sits at a worrying 76%. Currently, I cannot imagine him achieving anything greater than a C.

 

GERMAN – Although he shows flair for linguistics in general, Demyx is not putting in nearly as much effort into this subject as I believe he could. His oral work – pronunciation and fluency – remains his strongest skill, and he continues to struggle with written German, particularly sentence structures. I suggested the possibility of a German-speaking penpal as a means of practising this skill, but he met the idea with strong resistance. However, I am heartened by his attendance (88% - a twenty percent increase on last year!!) and am certain that, with more effort, he could attain at least a B.

 

MATHEMATICS – Much as I hate to say it, I feel Mathematics will simply never be Demyx's “thing”. His shoddy attendance (58%) indicates to me that he is as reluctant to be taught as I am reluctant to teach him. Other teachers tell me he is a bright and cheerful individual, but in my classes he looks miserable, and I am lucky if I can get him to attempt any work at all some days. I think a D is the best that we can hope for, unless private tutoring is considered as an option.

 

MUSIC – I have nothing but praise for Demyx. He remains one of the most talented and passionate individuals I have ever taught, and I often struggle to give him suggestions for improvement. It might be worth looking into private tutoring to ensure that he is not limited by what a high school music department has to offer him. Certainly I cannot imagine Demyx achieving any less than an A, even if he falls below his current 100% attendance.

 

END OF REPORT

 

 

Report – XIGBAR – October 2014

 

20TH CENTURY HISTORY – Xigbar is consistently disrespectful, aggressive and unwilling to engage with any tasks whatsoever. He has not presented me with a single piece of work all term, nor have I ever witnessed him taking notes. His attendance remains above 90% (92, currently), though I understand that this is as a result of several expulsion threats, and thus not an indicator of renewed commitment to his education. It is difficult even to predict a grade for Xigbar when I have seen no work from him, but I would like to suggest, perhaps optimistically, that he could achieve a D.

 

BIOLOGY – Xigbar has shown no improvement in any field other than attendance, wherein he is currently at 94%. His attending is, however, a waste of time, as he completes no work in class nor outside of it. He is going to fail unless he begins to produce work and pay attention.

 

CHEMISTRY – I have the displeasure of teaching Xigbar for both Biology and Chemistry. His attendance for this subject is 92%. For other information, see above.

 

ENGLISH LANGUAGE STUDIES – I have not seen any work from Xigbar all term, just like last year. His attendance has leapt up to 94%, under the threat of expulsion, which at least implies that he would like to remain in school, though to what end I am unsure, since he seems set to achieve a D, at the very, very most.

 

FOOD TECHNOLOGY – It is clear that Xigbar only took this subject to fill a slot in his timetable. Though his attendance has shot up to 94% since being threatened with expulsion, he arrives to lessons unprepared and unwilling to engage. I have not received a single piece of written work from him, nor seen him complete a single practical task. If he continues at this rate, he will fail.

 

FRENCH – Xigbar's attendance is 96%, and he uses the time in which he attending to demonstrate his comprehensive knowledge of “street French”, particularly vulgarities and expletives. He did attempt two questions during the first week of term, but since then I have seen no work from him. Going on these two questions alone, (and perhaps his fluency in pronouncing swearwords), I believe Xigbar to be capable of achieving at least a C, though realistically he will only reach this goal if he alters his attitude tremendously.

 

MATHEMATICS – I am continually impressed with the effect that the threat of being expelled has had on Xigbar – his attendance has gone from last year's 25% to a shining 96%. However, he simply will not work when he is in my class, nor will he complete work outside of class. I once overheard him discussing the prices of certain leisure items, and he showed some understanding of percentage equations, but this is the only evidence I have of his mathematical knowledge. We may be looking at a fail here, or at best a very low D.

 

END OF REPORT

 

 

“I mean... you know... _everyone_ hates report cards, Demyx.” Xion had a kind of half-wince on her face, and Demyx couldn't blame her. He would be wincing too, both at the severity of the report card and at the fact that he'd been so upset by it (and his parents' reaction to it) that he had brought it in to show Xion.

He jabbed a finger at the Combined Sciences section. “Look at that. Vexen _hates_ me –”

“Vexen hates everyone,” Xion interjected, “and anyway, you can ignore the grumpy fucker. Look at your Music report.”

“I bet you got a good one too, though, because –”

“'Xion has a sound technical and theoretical knowledge of Music and, if she applies herself, could be looking at a B or even an A,'” Xion recited. The bitterness in her voice cut into Demyx. “I work hard at Music, Demyx, but you're just talented at it. I have to spend hours and hours learning just to be almost as good as you are. You've got something special with Music –”

“Like you do with Spanish.” It was true – Xion could make you believe Spanish was her first language, both in writing and speech. “Listen, I'd better get to History, my dad'll kill me if I don't get my shit together attendance-wise.”

Xion nodded in understanding, and the pair hugged briefly before Demyx snatched up his report, then span on the heel of his tattered sneakers and began meandering to 20th Century History.

Upon arriving outside of the classroom, he blinked. Everyone had organised themselves into a line, all looking baffled. Demyx shuffled in between Luxord and Ventus, not daring to ask what might be afoot.

The line crept forwards. Demyx had turned his ankle over their week-long break and couldn't wait to be sat in the classroom, in his chosen seat by the window, where he could (sort of) get away with doodling calligraphic song lyrics into the back of his notebook instead of taking notes. But as he approached the classroom door, his stomach sank. Mr Badun stood with an ominous piece of paper in his left hand, and Demyx saw him pointing at seats as each student walked past him. _Assigned seats_.

“Luxord... next to Selphie, over in that corner.” No doubt Luxord was going to capitalise on this opportunity to woo someone new. “Demyx, uhhh...”

“Sir, do I _have_ to be moved? I'm not gonna work any better next to some stranger than I would by the window.”

“You've been here for years,” Badun returned, raising an eyebrow, “so they shouldn't be strangers. You'll be at the very front, on Xigbar's left.”

Dread.

_Dread_ .

At the beginning of the year, Xigbar had selected the nicest, warmest corner of the room, furthest from Badun's view. He did this in every class, every year. When he had been held back and entered Demyx's grade, someone had warned Demyx not to attempt to sit next to him, because he hated company more than anything.

But Badun was watching him expectantly, and so, stomach in knots, Demyx dragged his feet until they had carried him to the front of the classroom, and he pulled out the chair on Xigbar's left.

He was expecting Xigbar to turn around, in the manner of bad high school movie antagonists, and tell him not to speak to him, or take up too much space, or be remotely annoying in any way. But, jaw locked, Xigbar said nothing, so Demyx lowered himself tentatively into his assigned seat and pulled his notebook from his bag.

Someone dropped into the chair next to Demyx. It was Ventus. “Hey Demyx,” Ventus said quietly, and Demyx watched him watching Xigbar in his peripheral vision. “Assigned seats are a ballache, huh?”

Demyx shrugged, frightened of offending Xigbar, whose body language resembled that of a spring that needs to do some springing. “I'm just mad that I might have to actually take notes now.”

Ventus chuckled, as the last few students got settled, and Mr Badun clicked the door shut.

“I'm hoping,” he said loudly, “that this seating arrangement will be beneficial to all of you.” He glanced down his nose at Demyx and Xigbar, before placing his ominous paper on his desk. “You may be able to infer why you have been moved.” Another glance, this time at Selphie, who was notorious for talking through classes and tests. “Now, we'll be having a test at the end of this week, so we'll see how much of a difference it makes.” Nobody even groaned. There was an air of acceptance about the room. Acceptance, or maybe defeat. Or just general Monday morning depression. “In the meantime...”

The rest of the hour and a half passed uneventfully. Then, as soon as the bell rang, Demyx tossed his notebook and pen into his bag and shrugged the jacket he had removed back onto shoulders.

As he leapt out of his chair, he glanced down at Xigbar, who was still rearranging his possessions at a pretty leisurely rate. He raised an eyebrow when he spotted Demyx looking at him, and Demyx felt his ears turning pink, suddenly very interested in making sure the back of his chair was pressed as firmly against the table as possible. Badun still hadn't dismissed them.

“I only bite on request, you know, kid,” Xigbar said, and Demyx smiled nervously. His stomach tingled.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_You're shitting me. Does he think you're twelve?! You're SHITTING me._

Demyx glanced up nervously from his phone. He had found in his German classroom a fantastic seat for surreptitious texting, but his teacher had just snatched a cell phone straight out of another kid's hands, and Demyx didn't fancy getting his confiscated when he had such urgent news to tell Xion.

_I know_ , he began to type, enjoying her outrage at the arranged seats situation,  _and you'll never fucking guess who I'm next to, it's_

“Demyx!” Demyx's head jerked up. “Economical?”

“Uhh... um... Wirtschaftlich?” He sincerely hoped that he had shouted out the right word, and, more importantly, that that was all that was being asked of him.

His teacher seemed satisfied, and he returned his attention to texting.  _It's XIGBAR._ He hit “Send”. 

Xigbar had this reputation. Demyx wasn't quite sure how much of it was true, but certainly it was taken to be fact that he did drugs. More often disputed was whether he sold them. Rumours occasionally circulated about him doing various violent things. He was, without a doubt, the most widely discussed student in the school (now that Marluxia, who was supposedly a porn star, and Xigbar's druggie friends had all graduated, at least). So, much as he was irritated by Badun's decision to disrupt the natural order of things by rearranging the class, he was pleased at the opportunity to learn more about Xigbar.

_No fucking way! What's he like? Aren't you shit scared of him? I would be._ Xion had sent each sentence as a separate message – she was excitable, and blessed with the privilege of unlimited texts. Demyx glanced again at his German teacher, then returned his attention to his twitching thumbs.

_I dunno. He made a joke like “I don't bite” or something at the end of class. I believe he's a druggie, but I'm not sure he's such a bad guy..._

He sent it, then lifted his pen to start crafting tiny cubes in the margin of his notebook. He wasn't any good at drawing, really, but cubes were simple, and, if he was honest, soothing. Not that there was anything that, you know, needed soothing.

 

x

 

The rest of the day flew by. Demyx found himself shocked by the way his stomach lurched when he spotted the back of Xigbar's head in the corridor. He walked home (having spent his bus fare on pizza, yet again) and turned this over in his head. He'd never really been afraid of anyone, not properly. Vaguely anxious when he had to walk past people who had more tattoos than teeth on dark winter evenings (he suspected he had some classist prejudices that needed addressing there), but he had never felt his organs simply evaporate upon just seeing someone several feet away.

Xigbar was pretty legendary. But he belonged to a crew of people more legendary, all of whom had already graduated; Xemnas, with his big forearms and weird eyes, had had his locker searched for nobody-was-allowed-to-know-what last year; Zexion was rumoured to have hospitalised a guy; Xaldin had bust a guy's head open in the A corridor and had only been allowed back to school because the attack was 'provoked'. Demyx's stomach had never done backflips upon seeing any of them.

Maybe the danger was more immediate now that they were jostling elbows in History. That'd be it.

All of a sudden, Demyx was at his front door. He unlocked it and entered, shoulder-first, into a house that smelt like a whole bakery.

“Was there any point in buying you a phone?” his dad asked from another room, as he kicked his grubby shoes off – his laces _had_ been white, _once_ – and flung his rucksack down next to them. “I don't mind if you're late home, Dem, but at least _text_.”

“Sorry, Dad.” Demyx felt especially meek around his father at the moment. A stout but commanding man with furious eyebrows but a very warm smile, his divorce from Demyx's mother had left him with just Demyx, and not even that on alternate weekends; he compensated for this by baking bread and cakes and buying Demyx the best of everything, no matter how taken for granted it was. “School was good, though. Went to every class.”

“Learn much?” Demyx's dad bustled around the kitchen. He'd been disappointed by the report card, rather than mad, which had wounded him more than his mother's furious phone call (“ _You're bone idle, Demyx! I don't know how your father can put up with it!”_ ). “Dinner will be about an hour, by the way.”

“Ah, cool.” Mondays were always sausage casserole. “We were talking about empires and stuff in History. Messed up. And Math was so hard.”

Demyx's father frowned, his greying eyebrows vaguely reminiscent of stormclouds. “If you pull yourself up by the bootstraps and still aren't better by Christmas, we'll get you a tutor.”

Demyx sucked his teeth pensively. He did want his dad to be proud of him... but for his music, really. Not for random shit that had been piled onto the curriculum by politicians with very skewed ideas of 'transferable skills'. “Mum been in touch since yesterday?”

The silence made Demyx's back prickle. “Yes,” his dad said finally, “to remind me that the weekend of your eighteenth is one of her weekends.”

Demyx knew his dad wanted him home for his eighteenth birthday. Xion wanted him in town, to celebrate being of the legal drinking age in Hollow Bastion. And of course, his mother wanted him in Twilight Town, fawning over his new half-sister, awkwardly avoiding his stepfather.

“You know birthdays have never been my thing, Dad.”

“I know. Uh, dinner's in about an hour.” He didn't seem aware that he was repeating himself. “You got homework, son?”

Demyx sighed. “Yeah. I'll get upstairs, make a start.”

“Good lad.”

 

x

 

Demyx was in his seat, notes scattered carelessly over his desk, and Badun was already talking animatedly when Xigbar wandered in. Badun glared at him, but students were often late to class after lunch, due to a horrific bottleneck situation in the cafeteria, so he said nothing.

Demyx's stomach was doing that dumb flipping thing again.

“Hey.” Xigbar threw himself into his chair, one earbud in and one dangling down his chest.

Ven piped up first. “Hey.”

Demyx just nodded, not trusting his suddenly dry throat. His mind was full of inappropriate speculation about whether Xigbar had really fisted Xemnas' sister, as Xion had reported over lunch.

“Xigbar, earphones out.”

“But _Sir_ , I only have one in.”

“Both out, or you'll be in the principal's office. I haven't the patience this morning.”

As Xigbar yanked his earphone out, Demyx saw out of the corner of his eye the raggedness of his fingernails. _No way has he fisted anyone with those fingernails. Xion's a fucking liar._

“Demyx.” Badun was writing on the board, but Xigbar's voice was not a cautious whisper, as one's usually would be if one was trying to talk surreptitiously in class. “You've got Lindbergh as your Music teacher, right?”

Demyx nodded slowly. “Why?” he whispered, as Badun turned and raised an eyebrow at Xigbar.

He at least had the decency to wait for Badun to turn again before speaking. “Well, had detention with him last night. He wouldn't shut up about how great you are.” 

“Xigbar, that does not sound like an on-topic conversation.”

Xigbar flashed Demyx a grin and picked up his pen. “Thought I'd pass it on.”

_ What's he flattering me for? _ Demyx asked himself. A sardonic part of him responded,  _ He wants to fist you, too. _

He might talk to Xion about it. Except maybe she'd accuse him of fraternising with the enemy. She greatly mistrusted Xigbar. And anyone who did any kind of substances that weren't alcohol. (Demyx wondered if she had some classist prejudices too.)

The rest of the lesson was uneventful, apart from Badun asking jovially, “Are you all studying hard for the test on Friday?”

To which Xigbar answered, “As hard as a marshmallow.”

Demyx and Ventus snorted in unison.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Life. I don't think I can promise that I'll update regularly, but I can promise that I'll update sometimes, because I fucking love XigDem. I do.

**Author's Note:**

> I write too much XigDem.  
> I can't wait to go forwards with this tbh. Feedback is always appreicated!


End file.
